To Trust a Thief by Michelle McLean

Now.”
    Fiancée? Bryant’s hand tightened on Min in a sudden surge of possessiveness and she gasped. He immediately let go, glancing down to be sure she was all right.
    She might have been unharmed physically, but the expression on her face had Bryant taking a step back before he caught himself. Min stood and looked between the two men.
    “That is enough out of both of you. Mr. Westley, I am perfectly capable of speaking for myself and I will thank you to stop trying to do it for me. Dr. Carmichael and I are betrothed and he has every right to know what happened. And you,” she said, turning on the doctor. “This is not the time nor place. I will speak to you later.”
    Before either man could answer, Lady Courtland approached them. “Oh, good. You look as though you are feeling much better, my dear. Excellent. However, I will excuse you from your classes for the rest of the day. I suggest you retire to your room and rest until supper.”
    “Yes, Aunt Laura.” With a little curtsy and a subtle glare for both Bryant and Dr. Carmichael Min turned and left the room.
    Bryant watched her go, a small grin tugging at his lips. She was definitely more than he’d expected. A spitfire of a girl who he admired more with each hour. A girl who was entirely unsuited for the staid doctor who fumed next to him. She’d be bored to tears inside of two months married to such a dullard. A girl like Minuette Sinclair needed to be with someone more…adventurous, more her equal. Someone like him.
    His amusement faded quickly with the realization that he and Min could never be together. He could never burden her with his life. She’d be safer and happier married to her country doctor. He needed to put an end to this ridiculous distraction and get back to business.
    Because her determination to beat him to the necklace had also made her a bigger threat than he’d anticipated. A threat he could ill afford.
    What a pity.

Chapter Ten
    Min woke past midday the following Sunday. Her shoulder still ached and her hands were sore, but they were healing. She had never been so glad for the rather silly convention of always having one’s hands covered when out and about. At least the gloves kept her from having to lie to too many people. She had enough problems trying to evade Arthur’s attentions.
    Min knew she couldn’t avoid him forever, but she’d keep him, and his questions, at bay for as long as she could. Especially since she had plenty of her own questions about what had happened in the attic.
    There was no doubt Mr. Westley knew about her explorations. His warnings were less and less subtle. For a moment, she had truly feared he would harm her. Yet…
    He’d saved her.
    And…there had been a look in his eyes when he’d pulled her back on the roof. He’d held her so close…
    She needed some air. Min tossed her blankets aside, biting her lip at the latent throbbing in her injured palms, threw on her skirt and blouse, and left the room.
    Min loved to walk along the flower-lined paths of the estate grounds. Her favorite place was the enormous greenhouse at the back of the property. Even in winter, the gardeners made sure that something bloomed. As far as Min knew, she and Charlotte were the only ones who went there. The warm interior of the greenhouse provided an almost tropical hiding place, safe from the elements and prying eyes.
    It felt like home.
    The building sat where the wild acres of the estate began, beside a large pond where Min would often dip her toes if the weather was good and no one was about. Min sat on the stone bench that rested beneath the branches of a willow tree just at the water’s edge. She took a deep breath, welcoming the cold air as it hit her lungs.
    Min pulled her uncle’s latest letter from her pocket and went back over the already well-read pages. The words blurred into each other, a few standing out in glaring contrast to the white of the page.
    Your father’s condition is deteriorating…
    One of